Fighting for Love and America
by Lady Olivia Devereax
Summary: Mia Thomas was a sickly, tiny 24-year old woman who had lived in the hospital for most of her life, until one day her heart stopped. After being revived by Steve's DNA-formulated serum, she is reintroduced to the world. Also, her unrelated big brother is starting to seem like more than a friend.
1. Chapter 1

A petite red head smiled wanly at her doctor. The only clothes she owned were the blue-and-white polka-dot hospital gowns that she changed into every day. She had an elegant face, with rosebud lips, sick, but hopeful green eyes, greatly defined cheekbones, gaunt cheeks, and limp red hair that fell to her shoulders.

She had a slender neck, that might have looked very nice with a string of pearls or a turqoise pendant, but was only as pale and unadorned as the rest of her skin. She had narrow shoulders, a small ribcage, a flat chest and a tinier waist, barely developed hips and pale, thin legs that had never held her weight for more than two hours at a time unaccompanied.

The little woman was twenty-four and barely 5'4. Her skin, smooth and unblemished, never marked by pimples—having been fed blood-type-healthy food her entire life—and pale as the moon itself, sometimes setting her off brightly even in the darkest of night. "What's your diagnosis, Doctor?" She asked in her small voice. Her questioned was immediately followed by a spasm of coughing that wracked her entire frame.

"Good morning, Mia. I can't tell you my diagnosis until you finish your breakfast and then tell me how you're feeling." The doctor replied, giving Mia a concerned smile. "I haven't seen you in a while," Mia said carefully, sucessfully avoiding another fit of coughing. "If I were around all the time, you'd be bored of me," the docter said quietly, gently taking her wrist and pressing his thumb to it, counting off the pulse.

"No, I'd never get bored of you, doctor. You're too kind." Mia protested weakly, dutifully taking a bite of her breakfast. "Mia, you know that while your condition is very serious, I have many more patients than just you." The doctor smiled as Mia pressed herself into her hospital pillows. "No," the small woman shook her head, and then paused to admit her painful coughing.

"You don't have a lot of patients. Because not many people trust you after—," Mia stopped after the doctor's quiet look. "I'm sorry, Doctor Banner, I just wish you were around more." She said hesitantly, distastefully pushing away her tray of half-eaten breakfast. "But not all the time," Dr. Banner guessed. "No, I suppose not. I do like talking to Lissie." Mia smiled, thinking of the kind, middle-aged nurse.

"I know you do, sweetheart." Dr. Banner smiled, and Mia though she saw tears shinning in his eyes before she squeezed hers shut to cough again. Already exhausted, Mia sank into the pillows even deeper, her small chest pumping heavily. "Please tell me there's a cure. Dr. Banner, I can't take it any more! It hurts so very bad!" Mia's small weak voice became quieter and weaker as she spoke.

Dr. Banner took her hand, and this time, Mia knew that the tear that slid down his cheek was real. "Mia, Tuberculosis is a very serious disease. There isn't much I can do. While I have been away, I talked to a few of my doctor friends, and they offered to come and try their best to help you." Dr. Banner said quietly. He saw that Mia was about to fall asleep. Just like it did whenever he saw her this pained and tired, his heart leapt in fear. In fear of the possibility that this was her time and that she would not wake up.

Even looking at her heart rate monitor hardly helped. Even her heart was almost too small to run her tiny body. Dr. Banner wiped away his tears. Mia had been his patient since she was five years old. She had been a sickly child from the start. First it was the flu, which she got almost every year, and then chicken pox, which wouldn't have been so bad if she hadn't had irritated and dried up skin at the time.

Then she had a few cancers, which she hardly got over. Dr. Banner even had a rising suspiscion that she wasn't completely through with them yet. He stood up quietly and exited the hospital room, allowing her peaceful rest, something that she didn't get often.

As he walked tiredly down the sterile white hallways, Dr. Banner passed Mia's worried sister, who practically lived in the hospital, praying for Mia, and he passed Lissie and Barbara, Mia's sympathetic and kind elderly nurses. As he approached the exit, Dr. Banner's phone rang.

"I've told you," Banner said into the phone. "I don't want to risk this." "It has been tried before. And it worked. She is dying." The voice on the other end stated calmly, making Banner indecisive. "Not like this. Not on someone like her. You give her a few more days. I have a couple friends that will come and try to help her." The doctor argued wearily.

"More scientists? Like you? Bruce, I chose you as her doctor because you're supposed to be the best. If 'a couple' more scientists take DNA samples, she'll be even weaker from loss of blood." The voice growled. "I won't let that happen. Give me more time." Banner pleaded rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Three days." Click.

Banner slipped the phone into his pocket and stepped into his car. He had to take action. Quickly.

As usual, Mia's dreams were so hollow and confusing that they scared her. It was like that little kaliedoscope that her mother had brought her once. First one color and then another, and a million little shapes bouncing around, exploding just like you saw when you pressed your eyelids against your eyes for a while.

But her hours awake held no more comfort. Mia's memories of home were vague and like the wind—sometimes there, other times not. Sometimes they came in full force and sometimes it was just a tiny breeze of recollection—she at least remembered the color of her old room. She would have much prefered her old spring-green walls to the retna-searing white of the hospital.

Mia remembered a little carosel music box which moved just like the amuesment machine, the horses going up and down along with the gentle tune. But instead, now she had the beeping of the heart rate monitor. Sometimes her black cat—Ahab—would come and lay snuggled into her side, and her gray and black tiger striped female cat, Delilah, would lay on her chest and purr so deeply that it seemed to wake up Mia's own heart and set it to pumping again.

But now all she had were the stifling, scratchy blankets. Mia had a vague memory of a puppy. A little yellow labrador puppy. The little thing could hardly keep her tongue inside her mouth for longer than a minute, and always licked either Mia's hand or face. At least with her little critters around, there was someone to distract her from the growing pains, or the constant lung restriction.

Even the smells made her want to vomit. Anti-septics, vinegar and rubbing alcohol may keep the place spic-and-span, but it sure made her nausius, too. Mia felt like one of those people from the TV she'd watched. Who were either born with the condition, or they inherited it by use of alcohol or drugs, where their brains were stumped and, even when they were thirty-some-years old, acted like a child of eight.

"On...my own..." Mia's shaky, hesitant voice broke the stillness of the room. "Pretending he's...beside me..." She turned her head to gaze sorrowfully out the window. "All...alone..." She didn't notice, but her older sister, Valda, was heading to the hospital room. "I walk with him...'til morning..." Mia coughed heavily again, but continued her quiet song. "Without him...I feel his arms...around me...and when I...lose my way I...close my eyes...and he has found me..." Mia sighed, watching the birds enjoy their freedom outside.

Valda heard her sister singing and paused at the doorway to listen. "In the rain...the pavement...shines like...silver. All the lights...are misty in...the river. In the darkness...the trees are full of...starlight..." Mia coughed again, lurching forward with the force of it.

"And all I see is him and...me forever and...forever..." Tears brimmed at Mia's eyes as she sang on in her sickly thin voice. "Without him...the world around me...changes...the trees are...bare and everywhere the streets...are full of strangers..." Mia squeezed her eyes shut to allow her coughing.

"I love...him. But everyday I'm...learning...all my life...I've only been...pretending. Without me...his world will keep on...turning...the world is full of...happiness that I have never...known. I love him...I love him...I...Love...him. But only...on...my...own."

Mia tried to believe that her voice was getting stronger as she continued to use it. But the little voice of reason in the back of her mind always told her otherwise. "You shouldn't be wasting your breath, Mia," Valda said softly, finally entering the room.

The little twenty-four-year-old turned her head to look at her sister. "Singing isn't a waste of breath," she objected quietly. Mia tried to hide her sorrowful eyes from her sister, even though she'd spilled her feelings to her a million times. "Go ahead, Mia. I'll always be here to listen," Valda said, sitting down beside her and taking Mia's frail hand.

"I don't want to die in a hospital bed." Mia cried in a pausing voice. It was barely above a whisper, and every few words couldn't be heard because they were so quiet. "I don't want to even live in a hospital bed," she looked up at Valda. Valda's quivering lips managed a tiny smile.

"Hey, in a way, you've got it better than the rest of us. You get to watch super hero movies all day, and even musicals like Les Miserables." She attempted a weak joke. "I've heard that there is more to life than movies and books." Mia responsed glumly. "You might take advantage of your sickness," Valda suggested. Mia frowned. "How?" "You could get famous—write books or scripts and people would know you as the brilliant author who came up with all of her work in a hospital bed." The look Mia gave her sister said that she wasn't helping.

"I'd rather be known for something like starring on Man vs Wild and exploring a million different places." Mia said. "I know, Mia, I know." Valda ran her thumb up and down the back of Mia's hand. "I wanted to fall in love some day and get married—" Terrible coughing interrupted Mia's longings, but didn't stop her from continueing. "And have a family. Valda, you are free from the burdens of sickness. You shouldn't be here. You should be out living the life God gave you." Mia gave her sister a weak shove.

Valda, however, didn't move. She had much sympathy for her sister, and began to cry. "Mia, how can I live a life out there while you're in here?" She demanded. "In here or...dead...I wouldn't be of much...use to you." Mia retorted weakly. "Don't say that. Of course you are a good help to me." Valda said stubbronly. Mia held up one of Valda's arms against her own.

"You lie, Valda. You're skin is almost as pale as mine, and the rings under your eyes are even darker than mine." Mia pulled her hand away from Valda in an attempt to make her leave. Valda looked hurt. "Sister, I don't want you to waste your life in a hospital as I have." Mia pleaded.

She began coughing again. "Mia, please don't do this to me." Valda begged. Mia refused to look at her. "Don't make me go." Valda put a hand on her little sister's arm. Mia pulled away again. Valda stood, tears streaming down her face. "I hope you're happy. I'm only leaving to make you happy. Mother is worried sick about you." Mia shut her eyes and still refused to look at Valda

Valda wheeled and disappeared down the hall. Lissie came in cautiously. "I want her to live, even if I can't." Mia whispered. "Honey, I know that you only want what's best for her, but she wants to stay with you for as long as she can." Lissie replied, pulling back Mia's blankets. "She should have the opportunity to get married and have a family." Mia said, putting her tiny hands in Lissie's and allowing her to help her up.

"So should you. Everyone should." Lissie argued, ever so slowly helping the woman over to the bathroom. "I couldn't. No one would want me. I feel it coming, Lissie. I just know that I'm going to die tomorrow or the next day...or today even." Mia's voice was cut off by another spasm of coughing.

"Shh, shh, darlin'." The Texan woman shushed, putting a firm hand on her back and rubbing it soothingly. She locked the bathroom door and helped Mia undress. Then she helped her into the tub and made sure that Mia was upright as she scrubbed herself clean.

"Child, your legs are as thin as Olive Oil's." Lissie fussed. "Who's?" "You never saw Popeye? His sweetheart's name is Olive Oil and she has the thinest legs..." Lissie clucked her tongue like a fretting mother hen. "Lissie, I'm ready to come out," Mia's legs buckled as soon as she stepped out, weak from lack of use.

"We'll get you into bed and you can sleep peacefully." Lissie smiled, picking up her hospital gown and slipping it over Mia's head.

While Mia slept, she had another visitor.


	2. Heart-stopping life

This guest was one that she had only known for a few months. She had met him when Dr. Banner had brought him with him when he came to see her. They had talked for a good long hour, while Dr. Banner ran some tests and until Mia was so exhausted that she almost fell asleep while he was talking to her.

The tall, muscular visitor looked at her peaceful form, remembering how he had come many times after that, often talking to her about things that bothered him, while she listened with an open heart and mind. Steve sat down in the uncomfortable hospital chair, fearfully watching the heart rate monitor. Mia's hair was still slightly wet from her shower, and her breakfast still sat on the bedside table, half of it uneaten.

Steve knew that her time was coming to a close, and reached out his hand to gently wrap around hers. He looked at the pale hand and frowned, thinking about the life that the twenty-four year old should have been living. He had begun to think of himself as an older brother to her.

Brothers are supposed to protect sisters. He felt that he had been failing. Captain America, a widely known hero that had saved many people could do nothing for this woman. Steve must have been there for an hour before she woke up again. A tiny smile graced her hollow features.

"Steve," she greeted, tilting her head at the man. "Afternoon, Mia. Just thought I'd come by and see how you're doing." Steve said, smiling at her. "I'm getting along," she said, barely managing a small shrug before she had to cough again. "How's your life going?" She asked him. "Oh, quiet. I've been thinking about you." Steve said.

Mia examined him. Neat, blonde hair, a white shirt, brown pants, and she saw a leather jacket draped over the arm of his chair. He smelled like cologne and fresh air. His smile looked concentrated, and she couldn't imagine that he himself had been a small, sickly boy himself. Not as sickly as her, of course.

"Not as quiet as you want me to believe, though." Mia depicted, studying him carefully. "You're good, Mia. Nothing get's past you." Steve chuckled, looking down at the bed. Mia noticed that his hand was holding hers. "You'd be surprised what you could learn in a hospital bed," She whispered, grinning.

Her narrow shoulders shook as she coughed again. "I...I don't know if I'm allowed to say..." He said hesitantly. "Who would I tell?" Mia asked teasingly. Steve exhaled deeply. "Mia, I know you can keep a secret. But I'm only telling you—I don't think I want to trust anyone else with the information." He said.

Mia offered a wide grin. "I'm honored," She said in the strongest voice she could muster. "A man came to me, today, while I was in the gym." He said, running his other hand through his hair. "He said that someone had stolen the Hydra Weapon that I told you about. Mia, I have a feeling that he's from a secret agency of some sort." Steve said. Mia frowned thoughtfully.

"Why did he come to you? Did he think...you stole...it?" Mia coughed again. "No. No, he wants me to help him find it." Steve replied, noticing for probably the millionth time how pale, tiny and frail Mia looked. "Because you've had experience with it before?" Mia asked. She hoped Steve had said he would. He had been so emotionally scarred. Ever since he woke up, he'd been thinking of Peggy.

Maybe now, he'd have something to take his mind off of his past life. "I think so. But I don't know. He said there was a lot he'd have to tell me if I accepted." Steve replied, rubbing his eyes. "And will you?" "I don't know. I think I'm going to sleep on it." He said.

Mia's coughing rocked the entire bed, and Steve squeezed her hand. "I'm going to head home. It's almost five o'clock. You work on getting your strength up, okay?" He gently pulled his hand back and gathered up his jacket. "Tell me what you decide." Mia ordered softly as he left.

The next day, Steve came back, ready to tell her that he had accepted—that he was going to get the tesseract back. As he walked toward her room and looked in, fear struck his heart. There was no body in the bed, and the bathroom door was wide open. He went in to see if she had collapsed on the floor, but found nothing.

Turning and jogging towards the counter, he demanded, "Where is Mia Thomas?" The woman gave him a worried look. "She was taken to the ER fifteen minutes ago." Steve wheeled and started running down the hall. "Sir? Sir—you can't go in there!" She shouted after him, but Steve kept running.

He heard more footsteps behind him, and, thinking it was security, he ran faster. "Steve? Mr. Rogers!" Steve looked back at a man with a gray blazer, a purple shirt and slightly graying black hair. He paused. "Steve, I've been here since yesterday from calcutta. Mia is in the Emergency Room." He said. "Yeah, I know. What happened?" steve demanded.

Bruce ran a hand through his hair. Steve saw, behind him, a tall woman with short red hair, watching them closely. "Her...heart stopped. I've made a call to some emergency scientists. We're trying to revive her now." Bruce said. Steve didn't know Banner very well—he had met him once at a café and they had gotten caught up in a conversation about modern science, and Bruce had offered to let him see some new medical equipment at the hospital.

"I have to see her." Steve said, pushing ahead towards the ER. The woman with red hair followed at a distance. Suddenly, someone took Steve's shoulder right as he looked into the hospital room. Mia lay, paler than ever with a silent heart rate monitor beside her. Steve looked over his shoulder at the tall, African-American man. He had an eye patch over one eye, and wore all black.

"Cap, I want to talk to you." Fury backed up. Steve looked back at Mia, and then followed Fury to a bench. "For a week, we've been trying to convince Dr. Banner to give her the super soldier serum. We believe that it will heal her, as it did you." "But Dr. Erskine died before he could finish his notes—," Steve protested.

"Yes, but we...while you were laying in our SHIELD base in New York, in the fake hospital room, we took some blood and then made another serum out of it. It replicates yours exactly." Fury said. Steve ground his teeth together, his jaw muscles bunching. He glanced back to her doorway, where she lay unresponsive.

"Are you sure it will heal her? Can you get her back?" Steve demanded. "We believe so. Steve, we made this out of your blood. I'm giving you the say-so." Fury said calmly. "But Dr. Banner is—" "Dr. Banner has given his consent." Fury said. "Then...do it. Do it, and I'll help you find the tesseract if she lives." Steve said decisively.

Fury gestured to a group of uniformed men. They rushed in with a stretcher, and then ran out with Mia. Fury and Steve followed. The red haired woman and Dr. Banner came as well. Steve left his motorcycle in the parking lot and rode beside Mia in the black Dodge Sprinter. Miraculously, Mia's heart began to beat again, but too faintly for her to regain consciousness.

"Wake up, Mia," Steve pleaded quietly, then closed his eyes to pray. When they reached the place, Mia was taken hurriedly inside, and Steve followed right behind the men who pushed her stretcher. "Please, wait here." Fury put a hand on Steve's arm as Mia was wheeled into another room.

Steve saw the container that looked like a slightly like the one he had entered so long ago, the same nervousness fluttered in his stomach. When Mia came back, she was out of her hospital gown and wearing a white tank top, and knee length, extremely loose denim caprees.

They lay Mia down on the metal table and began the procedure. Steve watched them inject the serum into her thin arms. Then her table began moving upward, and her closed eyelids fluttered, but did not open. Steve watched anxiously from beside Dr. Banner, the red haired woman, and Fury.

"Please begin," The doctor in charge switched on the machine, and blinding light emenated from the container. After a few seconds, Steve heard a scream and took a step forward. Then he remembered his own pain when he went in, and how it was temporary, and clenched his fists.

"It is done," The doctor reported. The light began to slowly fade, and with a hiss, the door creaked open. Steve held his breath as the woman—seemingly his little sister—came into view. Her eyes had closed again, but her chest was pumping hard, showing that she was alive and breathing.

Steve's eyes trailed down her body. She had definitally filled out, and muscle covered her arms and legs, and she was taller. Probably 5'6. Fury turned and walked away. He left the building, and a middle aged man took his place. Steve took a few steps closer to Mia, not sure what to do. One of the doctors started forward, to help her out, when Mia began falling forward.

Steve, being the closest one, caught her in his arms and helped her stand upright. "Mia?" He asked carefully. He noticed that even her hair had thickened slightly, and came shinningly down to her shoulder blades, where they curled upward at the ends. The woman slowly opened her eyes. "Hi, Steve," she said. Mia's eyes widened in shock as she heard her own voice. Clear and strong.

"Mr. Rogers, Ms. Thomas, I'd like you to come with me, please." The middle aged man said, turning towards the door. Mia took a step away from Steve, experimenting her new strength. She smiled, feeling fresh and new for the first time.

Steve gave her a small smile before following the man out the door. Mia caught up with him, too happy and excited to speak. "Please," the man gestured for them to board an aircraft. Steve offered for Mia to go first. Mia, who had never flown or seen anything like this from what she could remember, hesitantly entered the craft.

Steve and the man came after her, and she folded her arms, realizing that she was wearing a tight tank top and tight caprees. They felt much different from the hospital gown, but clothing wasn't her greatest interest right now. "My name is Agent Phil Coulson. I work for SHIELD." The man said. He offered Steve and Mia a seat.

A minute later, Steve was holding a portable screen, which Mia watched with rising interest as it showed footage of The Hulk. "So, he became like that after trying to make a serum to be like you? I mean us?" Mia whispered to Steve, who shrugged. He posed the question allowed to Agent Coulson. "Many people did. You were America's first superhero." Agent Coulson replied.

Mia stared down at her arm with interest. She curled her fingers into a fist, and then straightened them and watched her muscles bunch and flaten. She had never had visible muscle of any kind. Now, the way her body reacted to different movements intrigued her.

"Just an hour ago, I was laying in a hospital bed. Now I'm here." She murmured to herself, wrapping her arms about her. The metal wall behind her was cold, plus, her body was not her accustomed to natural weather. Steve slipped out of his leather jacket and hung it over her shoulders.

Mia slid her arms into the sleeves and smiled wonderingly. It had been a long time since she had worn a jacket. Then she realized that she didn't know where she was, or where she was going. Mia looked up at Agent Coulson. He was watching Steve.

Steve's eyes were on the screen in his hands, but most of his thoughts were on Mia. She was alive and experiencing a whole new world, similar to the way he had when he woke up. The serum had certainly enhanced her beauty, making her look more human than the gaunt, hollow-cheeked girl with deep-purple rings beneath her eyes.

Then he looked down at the screen. It was partly his fault that Dr. Banner had been turned into the Hulk. Captain America had influenced him, and therefore he tried to make a replica serum. Maybe if he had stayed behind as Colonel Phillips had wanted and let the scientists run tests on his DNA, then all of today's accidents might not have happened.

Mia would have been saved sooner, Dr. Banner would only be known for his exquisite knowledge of science and Gamma Radiation rather than his less sane and safe self, and the Abomination would never have been born.

Agent Coulson cleared his throat.


End file.
